vulnerable writing

You see, at first, I did regret you. I regretted ever giving you that satisfaction of having me so easily. I used to regret ever being so vulnerable for you. I would regret the memories we had created at 2PM as well as the ones at 4AM. Now, I’m just so thankful for you. You taught me that there is nothing wrong with showing a man just how crazy you are for him, it is not my fault you were incapable of loving me back. You taught me my worth. That I should not lose an ounce of sleep, crying over something that is completely out of my hands. You taught me how to love myself enough to let you go. Because of you, I know what I deserve now and I will never settle. You did that. I am forever grateful for you.
—  You were a life lesson. Thank you R.
Here’s to the girl who’s far from perfect. The one who’s confident yet completely insecure at the same time. Here’s to the girl who cares just a little too much. She loves with all of her heart yet pretends to have no emotions. She has her bad days and her really bad days, but most days are good and she’s thankful for that. She loves her family and friends, and she’s learning to love herself too. This girl is so extremely passionate, more than it even comes across. It is often her strength and her downfall. She wants to be swept off her feet, but will never be taken advantage of. She’s strong, but vulnerable in ways some will never know. She’s opinionated and a perfectionist and her mind is filled with the most beautifully outrageous dreams. So here’s to the girl who’s still trying to figure things out. The one who people might not know as well as they think they do.
—  Kiannah Joylinn (i’m in love with this. by far one of the most personal things i’ve ever written)
If something inside of you is real, we will probably find it interesting, and it will probably be universal. So you must risk placing real emotion at the center of your work. Write straight into the emotional center of things. Write toward vulnerability. Risk being unliked. Tell the truth as you understand it. If you’re a writer you have a moral obligation to do this. And it is a revolutionary act—truth is always subversive.
—  Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life
I'm a hopeless romantic

You hold your paint brushes
like a heart holds a soul.
Each fine hair on the handle
somehow makes you whole.

Green and yellow and blue and grey
your name stretches across my lips like a two-syllable Irish dancer
And wiggles between my teeth.
your name splatters upon every canvas,
in the ashes of every ashtray.
Can I see the insides of your soul?

Two orders:
A black coffee and a mocha with whipped cream.
A dream,
I asked for chocolate sprinkles
to match the freckles on your nose.
You make me feel like coffee tastes.
like wiggling toes
and hand-me-down clothes.
without control-
can I see the insides of your soul?

Gazing at your face directly in the sun
may be the best thing that I’ve ever done,
because your watermelon wedge smile
makes my body tingle.
makes my heart concave
and I thought I was brave
until you made me stand on stilts.

the hopeless romantic has hope.
may the mystery of your soul be a legend-
finger cuts and hand soap.
I’ll pack away your supplies,
whilst packing away mine:
your paint brushes and my storyline.
You won’t answer,
so ill play our song.
I’ll call-
and you won’t respond.
And I’ll hope that the next time my heart runs away with me,
next time,
there will be someone willing to come along.

I’m gonna need you to love me a little harder sometimes. Most days, I’ll act like I’m just fine. I’ll paint my smile across my face and wear it proudly. I’ll laugh loudly like I’ve never tasted sadness in my life. But other days, I will not be so strong. I will not walk boldly into the room, I will collapse into it. My vision of life will be clouded by darkness, and I will make my walls extra thick in hopes that you don’t notice. Please, notice. And when you do, pull me close. Hold me until we’re both too warm for anything else to matter. Let me breathe you in. Tell me that you love me, don’t stop until I respond, and then tell me again. I know this could be inconvenient for you, and I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a bother, but sometimes I need to be told that I’m worth it.
—  NaPoWriMo Day 6 - Love // Maxwell Diawuoh
While recovering from a breakup, I find it extremely empowering to do the things you stopped doing solely to please your partner. Listen to the songs you skipped when you played your music in his truck because you were afraid he’d think they weren’t “deep”, “edgy” or artistic enough. Wear the shirt you worried was too childish and not sexy enough to gain his approval. Dress according to your mood instead of dressing up like you did when you knew he was coming over. Watch tons of romantic movies to make up for all the times you suggested a romance but he looked completely disinterested and said “but what about—” and you sat through yet another fucking action movie because God forbid he feel any disappointment — a feeling you were beginning to know all too well. Be as “boring” as you want as an act of rebellion against the paranoia you endured while trying so damn hard to keep him interested and in love with you because “a Gemini needs constant mental stimulation”. Let yourself be imperfect. The right one won’t demand that you round your edges to fit into his life, whether deliberately, or unknowingly through his impatience and lack of enthusiasm. You won’t feel nervous around him. You won’t feel inadequate. You won’t feel like a burden. You won’t feel judged or inferior or small. You won’t feel like you’re suffocating under the pressure of trying to be the perfect girlfriend for him. There will be ample room for mistakes and no shortage of forgiveness. He will be so patient with you because that’s what you do when you truly love someone. You will know you’re loved. His love for you will emanate off of him; you’ll see it in his eyes and feel it deep in your core. You’ll feel seen, valued and appreciated rather than overlooked, tolerated and taken for granted. Someday, someone will truly love you, and make an effort to show you every single day. Some day your love will be reciprocated, and you’ll never worry about where you fit into his life or how he feels about you. Grieve the loss, then celebrate by taking your love back and giving it to yourself. You’ll then realize that it wasn’t actually a loss, because in the midst of your healing, you found the real You. Practice authenticity and stop giving a fuck what men think about you. Play your music, wear what makes you feel beautiful, watch what brings you joy. Step on toes, inconvenience them. You don’t live to make men comfortable. Live for you. You’ll know you’ve found the right one when if you’re truly yourself, he’ll love you even more for it and not despite it.
—  Isabella King, July 8th, 2017.
I'm human. I deserve to feel.

As of today, I’m uncontrollable. Wild, free, fearless, yes. But then so are my emotions. I feel like a matchstick, just one spark to burn. And the ashes will be my emotion in the form of tears. And when will I be a phoenix? To rise from the ashes and get back up, I don’t know.I’ve became way too temperamental and feel as if it’s just one ignition that’ll get me crying and down. I’ve always been the erratic one, but now I’m probably the hopeless one. Earlier I was asked why I was so fickle, now I’m asked why I’m so predictable. I know, tables turn. But I’ve become vulnerable to the ones I’ve always kept closest to my heart. And one weak moment might be all they need to break me, into a million pieces, to make me shatter, fall and cry. But I still trust them. I still trust them knowing I’m out on a limb. Knowing that I’m insecure. Trying to overlap that voice which still lingers in every inch of my body whispering, “you’ll get hurt”. Because I’m human and I deserve to feel. I’m still willing to take a risk with them gambling my sanity. I’m still willing to go against the feeling that resides in every inch of my very own skin, for you. Just for you.

It’s that time of year.
It’s the time of year,
When we finally remember what living is supposed to feel like.
It’s almost here.
—  N.C. // summer
It’s always a bit weird going into a writing session with people you don’t know trying to write honest lyrics and stuff. And I think I found this group of guys where I felt really comfortable in terms of being vulnerable and just writing exactly what it was that I wanted to say. And I think when you find that environment that’s kind of comfortable to write like that, you just want to stay in that. So I kind of went out with these guys who were all pretty young, and we all just wanted to write stuff that we liked. I think that’s why we’ve kind of ended up with an album we’re really happy with, so I hope that comes across.
—  Harry talking about making the album
Lego Batjokes Prompt #112





“Babe, we talked about this…”


Submitted by Anonymous

15 things I wish I’d known before starting my studyblr:


You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.


You didn’t know there was such a thing as branded stationery, but heck, there’s a thriving market out there. 


LOOK AT ALL THE APPS. THE ADVICE. The resources! Be wary: sometimes simple is best.


People are going to share their dreams, fears,  doubts, hopes, ambitions and “oh my fuck what the fuck is happening moments” with you. You’re going to learn so much from people you’ve never met; who live half a world away. You’ll learn that exam stress is universal, as are feelings of inadequacy and loneliness and anxiousness. A whole new world will open up to you, one message at a time.


People will take your photos, re upload them, use them without credit. They’re going to delete your captions. It’ll piss you off. Its downright disrespectful. You’ll want to leave. Platitudes like ‘the internet is a free space’ will not dull the swell of anger. But don’t let a few fools ruin a good thing. Remember all the messages of support, the funny tags on the reblogs, the kindness oh god the kindness.


Stand up for yourself. Whether it be your study methods, your study philosophy or your style. Be firm, but respectful.


Sometimes you’ll wake up to messages which will make you cry. You’ve never wanted to move mountains before, you never thought you could have such a visceral reaction to someone else’s problems  - but in that moment you’ll want to cross international borders and give someone a hug. Oceans be damned. 


You’re no hero. You can’t help everyone, and your advice may be useful to some and useless to others. That’s ok. Find your own support network within this huge ass community and make it a positive experience for yourself.


Tumblr’s text formatting is a nightmare.


Be vulnerable. Writing about your personal experiences will be cathartic. Giving advice will be cathartic. In guiding others you will be guiding yourself. In doing so, you’ll need to be brutally honest about your own failures, your own doubts and misgivings. You will feel vulnerable, a twisted form of quid pro quo you’re not sure you love. Share your stories of success, your stories of failure so that others will step forward and share theirs. Cheer at other’s success; lend a shoulder to cry on when they don’t. Reach out and start a dialogue. 


Taking a photo will not dull the pain, or tears. You will still have bad days.


People won’t believe that you use natural lighting. They evidently haven’t spent Summer in Australia before.


The number of notes or reblogs your posts have does not reflect the impact that they have on a person’s life. Who the fuck cares about reblogs when you’re sitting in the exam hall the next morning. 


There’s going to be a pointless debate about 'aesthetic’ vs 'effective studying’ which will make you groan and smack your forehead against the closest wall. And then you’re going to remember livejournal. And then you’re going to feel old.


You’re going to meet people who are kind, lovely, whose opinions differ from yours - and that’s ok. There are going to be people you’ll be able to have long 3am conversations with, whose music library you’ll want to freaking raid, and others whose tags will always brighten your day. There’s going to be people who consistently pop up on your activity feed, shadowing your every move and you’re not sure how to express your appreciation but trust me, they’ll know.

+ You started this project in a midnight ramble not expecting anything out of it. You’re going to be in for one hell of a ride. There is no reason to be afraid.

With love,


Originally posted by timlololo

sw au generator
Category: Anakin Unfucks the Timeline AU
Anakin: wouldn’t it be a shame :) if the chancellor were to :) :) oh I dunno :) :) :) fall on my lightsaber :) :) :) 23 times on the Senate floor



Vulnerable Shawn based off of the first line of Running Low: Weeks on end I’m on the road / Start to lose my sense of home / But not based on the song in its entirety. It’s not a breakup imagine, not in the slightest. 

Your name: submit What is this?


Your phone vibrating on the desk in front of you forces you to look up from your physics notes. Shawn’s name is on the screen, and you hesitate for a moment, but only a moment before you snatch your phone off the desk and speedily walk out of the library, leaving your friends and your books behind. Shawn knew you were studying at the library tonight because you had been texting him earlier. He usually respects your study time, and anytime he knows you’re doing something. He’ll text you randomly even if you’re busy, but he usually only calls you if something is important. You both have busy schedules and are very understanding of the fact that there are certain days you have to be content with just a few text messages throughout the entirety of the day.

“Hello?” You answer as soon as you step out into the cool nighttime air.

“Hi y/n.” Comes his reply, and you wonder if there is something wrong, although if there is, he’s not saying it right away because he lets a moment of silence hang between you after he greets you. 

So you speak, “Hey baby, what’s going on?”.

He exhales loudly on the other side of the phone, so loudly that you can hear it on your end. You can tell that he’s frustrated or exhausted or something, but you don’t know right away exactly what his emotions are at the moment. “I just miss you, I need you here with me. ” He responds. 

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power. dignity. strength. pride. composure. 

they must have something to lose. that’s the whole point. 

the contrasts are what matter. the breaking point. the fall. the impact. 

the fruitless struggle to control what can’t be controlled.

their stern mouth chapped and softened, hanging agape to breathe. their commanding, confident voice cracked and muddy. the angry flush of their nose and cheeks contrasting cruelly with an otherwise porcelain pallor. piercing eyes unfocused. capable muscles wobbly. sharp intellect sluggish and cloudy, shrouded in fever fog.

to see them like this is to catch a glimpse of the living, breathing, hurting human through cracks in their carefully constructed, polished façade . this is the uncensored version. this is them laid bare.

them at their ugliest, weakest, most vulnerable is the most beautiful you’ve ever seen them.

The Truth Behind “You are My Heaven”

A/N: Hello, my lovelies. This is not a fic, it’s actually a personal story. Or more like a word blurt. But I offered to share it and people seemed interested, so here it is. This is what inspired my fic You Are My Heaven. Spoilers below, I guess, if you haven’t read the fic. Also, I am working on an epilogue, but it might take me a few more days. You’re all wonderful. Read this if you’d like, but no hard feelings if you don’t. I will be tagging my permanent list below, though. Hope no one minds. Here we go. 

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